


Frostbite

by XMorningStarStillFallingX



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cute, Episode: s11e22 We Happy Few, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, OTP Feels, One Shot, Sarcasm, Season/Series 11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 16:05:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14084553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XMorningStarStillFallingX/pseuds/XMorningStarStillFallingX
Summary: A bit of a fix it for s11e22 We Happy Few which has probably already been done. But because I'm a diehard Samifer shipper and it felt like there was an opportunity missed to have these two interact a bit more, I figured why not. :)





	Frostbite

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first posting on Ao3. I've had the account for awhile and haven't been putting it to use, but hey, I figured since I've been getting back into the habit of writing things I should start using it. This is just a one shot, but hopefully there'll be more stories to come. Comments and whatnot are always welcome! I hope you enjoy!

Okay. Whoa there. Sam had not expected ice to be the first thing his feet made contact with upon entering his rather familiar bedroom.

“Don’t slip.”

The tone wasn’t as sarcastic as usual. On the contrary, it seemed bored. A dreary statement of something that was a matter of fact.

“Uh…yeah…”

The Winchester barely managed to straighten himself back up and not fall on his ass, catching most of his weight with a hand to the doorframe. The also very slick with ice apparently doorframe. In fact, his room had basically been turned into a walk-in freezer; every surface in the vicinity coated with a thick layer of frost. It was as if Lucifer’s sour mood had managed to become tangible – which was, well, probably accurate actually. “What…the hell did you do to my room?” he half gawked, brows pinching upwards. It was a reactionary statement, something he kind of blurted out, part baffled, more irritated than anything. Because the devil had thought it was perfectly okay to traipse into the bunker, lock himself in Sam’s room of all places and then add insult to injury by freezing everything.

The archangel’s blue gaze snapped up from the book he was placidly thumbing through. “Watch your tone.” he bit out, nose twitching slightly. How they couldn’t tell something was off in the first place was beyond Sam. Because he should have seen it. Both of them should’ve seen it. Though to the passing eye the dark-haired vessel that had become more Castiel than Jimmy Novak over the years may have looked the same, it was like holding a swatch of barely off-white up to actual white: you could notice the difference in a little crink in posture, an odd crinkle of the brow there, a sharper than usual response or lack of patience here. Even when the archangel had been pulling the proverbial wool over their eyes. Sam tightened his jaw, straightening up a bit.

“Or what?” he shot, almost challengingly. Because Chuck had made it explicitly clear that Lucifer wasn’t just not supposed to harm either of the brothers, but that he couldn’t. That didn’t mean that Sam wasn’t trying extremely hard to not let the fact that he was standing in the same room as, let alone exchanging not so friendly conversation with, Lucifer of all creatures freak him out. And maybe it wasn’t just the sharp drop in temperature in the room making him have to suppress a shiver. Especially as Lucifer damn near snarled. It was a silent baring of the teeth and grinding of the jaw, letting the book drop off the side of the bed without even looking.

Sam stood his ground even as the archangel maneuvered himself off the bed and was striding up to the hunter faster than he should be able to do without falling considering the ice polished floor. But that little factor didn’t seem to throw off the archangel’s gate, fury, or glib; and soon enough he was practically chest to chest with Sam. The Winchester in took a quick breath, quite literally holding it as Lucifer jabbed an accusing finger his way and looked about ready to implode from what Sam figured was probably divine wrath or whatever.

“I’ll…”

Whatever threat the devil had been about to make died with an absolutely frustrated sound. Because what could he do? Really? His Father had put the kibosh on his whole ‘snap and make somebody go bye bye into a million little fleshy pieces’ thing. No more snapping necks and cashing checks for a while…unfortunately. So, he put on his best sneer of a grin, showing some teeth in a none too pleasant expression as he got as much into the hunter’s face as possible with the height difference. That was one particularly irritating downgrade of Castiel’s vessel.

“I’ll get creative, think of something. You know me. Always have.” he chimed after a moment – an attempt at bravado. Because it wasn’t just wrath he was feeling. No. It was much more along the lines of powerlessness. Of being cornered and holing himself up only to be jabbed at with a rather sharp stick. Pretty close to that idiom of, oh, what was it, right. Of poking a sleeping bear. This whole situation was like poking a sleeping bear. Except it wasn’t a bear. It was the devil.

Sam swallowed thickly, shifting on his feet slightly but holding his own ground with a just as defiant look. Lucifer held his stare, eyes narrowing slightly. Because it didn’t seem like the other had any plans on moving anytime soon, even with Lucifer blustering – and that is what it was, he was hardly going to be able to make good on his threat with Daddy Dearest back to protect his pet apes after all. “What do you even want? Usually when people lock the door, it means they don’t want to be bothered.” he griped after another silent moment.

And that response had Sam bearing some teeth of his own. “How about my room back for starters. And usually, people go to their own room when they don’t want to be bothered.” he quipped back.

The archangel’s nose twitched. How was he supposed to respond to that?

“Someone’s mouthier than I remember.” he snapped, lip twitching. He took a step back, swiveling on his feet and snatching back up the book he had let drop earlier, tossing it on the bed.

Sam let out a sigh, a breath he hadn’t quite remembered he’d been holding. Because at least with the other turning away he didn’t suppose he was going to get a round two of the little cage match between him, Dean, Castiel, and Lucifer that had occurred previously. As much as that could’ve ended worse, being punched in the face by Satan himself wasn’t exactly something he wanted to deal with a second time in his life. “Seriously, Lucifer. Get out.” he deadpanned, crossing his arms, brows rising slightly.

“Why? There are plenty of other rooms. Besides, I’m a guest. I should get to pick my own place of residence while I’m forced to stay in this poor excuse for a Batcave.” the archangel chimed, not even looking at the hunter. He was simply fiddling with things – running a hand across the night stand, finger idly leaving a trail in the frost.

The Winchester made an exasperated sort of sound. “Exactly. There are plenty of other rooms you could turn into a freezer box besides mine.” he pointed out, a tight and miffed expression of vexation clear on his face. “And guests usually take the guest bedrooms – again, of which there are plenty to choose from – and not their hosts’.” he tacked on for good measure.

Lucifer wheeled around, much slower than the first time, making a show of rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. “Well, you know me. Have a thing for breaking the status quo.” he retorted, lips quirked up into a cheeky little smile that was closer to contemptuous than anything. Sam simply glared, pressing his lips together in an unsure and disgruntled sort of manner as he regarding the impetuous archangel that stood before him. And then Sam did something that even he himself was surprised by. And it really couldn’t be helped; not with Lucifer – Lucifer himself; the devil, Satan, the prince of darkness, ruler of the infernal world below – standing there, fists clenched at his side, looking like somebody told him he couldn’t just pick the marshmallows out of his lucky charms. Because it all came across as if the devil was a bit of an oversized six-year-old. And so, Sam was laughing of all things. It was not quite pleasant, almost hysterical, and it had the hunter winched over a bit at his stomach. Lucifer’s brows shot up, a disgruntled and wholly indignant sound tearing from his throat.  
“What’s so funny?” he bit out, eyes narrowing sharply. But he made no move to take a step back in Sam’s direction. No, because the reaction was actually a bit unsettling – though Lucifer wouldn’t ever admit that out loud. Sam regained his composure as best he could, simply making a gesture that encompassed just about everything in the room. Lucifer’s blue eyes glanced about, honestly trying to figure out just what had happened that had been worthy of laughter of all human emotions.

“Sorry…it’s just…all of it.” Sam mused, huffing out a sigh and straightening up a bit more, letting his hands fall to his sides. Lucifer blinked, scowl tugging at the corner of his lips and nose twitching in irritation. He clearly still didn’t understand. Sam in took another breath, searching for the best words to put this together as he rubbed at his temples. “Lucifer…The world is ending, this time because of God’s Sister, and here I am having a conversation with the devil who’s decided to lock himself in my bedroom and blasting, what is this? Robin Trower? To avoid talking to his Father – who also happens to be God – like some sort of moody teenager.” he tried to elaborate, eyes narrowing and hands gesturing about, trying to get the ridiculousness of the situation across to the archangel. Lucifer didn’t particularly care for being compared to a moody teenager. That wasn’t what he was, nor was he that unoriginal.

“Okay. First of all. Robin Trower is classic, and the song is metaphorically applicable to my life.” the archangel started, holding a finger up, eyes wide and brows arching as he started his response. “Second of all.” he continued, trying to figure out a good reason as to just why Sam’s second part of that metaphor didn’t hold up. “Teenagers are typically in the wrong – although, hey, a little rebellion and questioning authority is always good so I wholeheartedly encourage it. Not to mention, I’m an archangel. What sort of teenager has my icy touch?” he added, chortling at the end, winking as he tapped one of the bedposts, fingernail clicking against the layer of ice.

“Right. Guess you’re upgraded to Disney Princess then, my bad.” Sam deadpanned. Lucifer sputtered out something that was less of a retort and more of an indignant and frustrated sound. “Just…if you’re done with the kicking me while I’m down thing, I’m going to kindly ask you to screw off. Thanks.” the devil waved dismissively, rolling his eyes. Sam scoffed.

“Lucifer…that’s not the point. The point is, I want my room back. This isn’t kicking you while you’re down. This is an eviction notice.” he scowled. Though, okay, getting a few sarcastic stabs of his own in where the devil was concerned was kind of a bonus here.

“Well. Not gonna happen. So you really might as well go.” the archangel puffed, rolling his eyes, less than enthused. No. He really wasn’t going to leave the room he had shut himself away in at the moment. And maybe that had less to do with the fact that it was clearly irritating Sam or that he just loved to be difficult and more with the fact that he didn’t want to even risk the most miniscule chance of getting cornered into a conversation with his Father at the moment. He wasn’t so sure he could handle that. Sam frowned, worrying his bottom lip as he watched Lucifer. The archangel settled once more, this time casually on the edge of the bed, one hand picking at his pant leg as he found a nice spot over at the wall to glare at. Because. This time he didn’t even have an army of his siblings to convince to his side. No. He was well and truly on his own in a black and white world.

Sam brushed a hand up, scratching at the hair at the nape of his neck as he regarded Lucifer for a few moments longer. Half of him was screaming that it wasn’t his duty to actually do anything past get his damn room back, and that he had already done more than the devil deserved in helping spring him from Amara’s captivity in the first place, if only on principle for every single thing he had endured at the hand of Lucifer and the destiny that had been written for him. But there was another part that couldn’t help but let out a sigh and shut the door behind him, even though that in itself – essentially trapping himself in the same room with Lucifer – was causing an unpleasant churning in his stomach; however powerless the devil was at the moment. He wetted his lips. He really was going to regret this later.

“Look, do you…uh…want to talk about it?” he sputtered, almost catching himself off guard as much as it apparently caught Lucifer off guard. The archangel was snapping a narrow-eyed glare towards the Winchester, looking for the catch. The archangel turned his attention back to the wall in front of him.

“What’s there to talk about?” he muttered derisively, but he was scooting over and patting at the spot next to him, making room. He didn’t see as Sam sat down, just felt the divet of the bed under the other’s weight as he did indeed sit, albeit hesitantly. Sam worried his bottom lip and shifted awkwardly. Lucifer let out a puff of air through his nose.

“I mean. I know how it is when you’re at odds with a parent, especially a dad, and maybe it’s not exactly like your situation, but maybe it’s not that unlike it either.” he pointed out, tacking on that last bit when he saw that Lucifer looked like he was holding in a distressed sort of laugh.

“Sam…do you…” the archangel trailed off with a sound of half desperate frustration, bringing hands up to rub at his eyes before he was flopping backwards, sprawling arms above his head. Sam frowned. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to argue with your Father…when your Father is God?” he inquired blandly after a moment. Sam tilted his head slightly.

“Well…no…not exactly, but you’re not the first…well, okay, you’re not the last kid to butt heads with their dad, Lucifer.” he sighed. Lucifer made a sound of acknowledgment but slung an arm over his eyes in annoyance – less with Sam and more with everything else. The Winchester sort of just regarded the archangel with, well, that was almost pity there. Which, was more than he should be feeling probably. He could practically hear Dean’s voice in his head yelling at him to just drop it and leave. But it was in Sam’s nature to have a tendency to have more than a little empathy for things he shouldn’t. “Look, I get it. It really…sucks.” he voiced after a moment. Lucifer moved his arm up a bit, peeking out at the other in mild trepidation from below his elbow. Sam wasn’t looking at him, rather, the Winchester had found some area slightly upwards to look in thought, arms sort of gesturing with what he was saying. It was clear he was actually putting thought into what was being said. “But, confronting it is also a part of growing up. And I’m not saying you have to be okay with what your Father did or...” he started only to be cut off by a sharp sound of realization coming from the archangel. It was enough to make Sam pause and look back down to Lucifer who was now regarding him with a look of surprise.

“You…don’t think I’m in the wrong, do you?!” he exclaimed finally, something giddy about that tone, lips quirking up ever so slightly at the edges. Sam pursed his lips, not really sure how to react to that notion.

“It’s more like…I don’t think anybody should’ve had to go through what you went through, Lucifer. Not that you were right…just…that there was fault on both sides and the punishment didn’t fit the crime.” he conceded, trying to word it in a way that wouldn’t seem flattering in regards to Lucifer’s ideals. Because he was in no way romanticizing everything that was very much not okay that Lucifer had done either. But Chuck wasn’t infallible as a God, let alone as a Father. The archangel frowned as he mulled that over in silence, and Sam continued on his previous train of thought. “I’m not saying you have to be okay with what your Father did or that what He did was right. Hell. There are some things that I can’t fully forgive my father for…. but, there is something way bigger than either your pride or His pride at stake here, Lucifer. Like, fabric of the universe being torn apart big. So just, if sucking it up and having a heart to heart between you two is going to be what it takes to make sure that none of that happens then for your own sake you need to be the bigger person and do it.” he huffed. Lucifer just sort of thought that over. He was listening, really, he was. The archangel shifted slightly, nose twitching in disdain at the notion of “being the bigger person” or whatever.

“That’s not my problem though.” he frowned in frustration. “I’m the one who deserves an apology here.” he spat after a moment in clarification. Sam frowned.

“Lucifer, you’re hardly the only one here who deserves an apology from someone but has had to suck it up and play nice with them for the sake of something bigger than themselves.” he pointed out.

And oh. Well. That was a bit of a metaphorical slap to the face now wasn’t it. Because why did he feel that that was directed at him? Lucifer worried his lip, shifting slightly before he was sitting up once more. He squirmed back a bit, the hunter looking at him in mild confusion as the archangel made a point of turning to face him, tugging a leg up and over his other one, hands wrung together.

“Look…” he started, tongue in cheek. Right. Perhaps this was the best place to start with that whole being the bigger person shazam Sam was talking about. “Sorry. I am…sorry.” he spoke, almost as if he was testing the words out on his tongue for the first time in his extremely long life. And really? It might actually have been the first time he ever used those words, come to think of it. His foot wouldn’t stop bouncing. Sam just blinked owlishly. Lucifer shifted slightly, feeling rather awkward now.

“What…?” It was all Sam could muster really. Because the Winchester was indeed quite baffled at that point. Lucifer chewed at his thumbnail, probably not the best of habits, glancing off to the side.

“I’m…sorry. You said that I’m hardly the only one here who deserves an apology and you’re right so this is your apology from me.” he elaborated, nearly cringing. Sam blinked again. How was he supposed to react to this? He was drawing a blank here. He had a reaction for just about any other of Lucifer’s reactions he would be expecting: i.e., sarcastic retort, anger, violence…not an apology. He breathed out a sigh, gathering his thoughts and composure.

“For what?” he pressed, narrowing his eyes. Because just what the devil’s words covered wasn’t entirely clear to him at this point.

“Everything.” Lucifer offered quietly after a moment, face scrunching up slightly as he sniffed.

“Okay.” Sam muttered. Lucifer’s brows pitched upwards slightly, and his gaze slipped back to the other’s face.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, perhaps a bit too quickly.

“It means, I…accept your apology.” the hunter stated, almost inquisitive bite to his tone. What else was that supposed to mean? Now it was Lucifer’s turn to blink. Because it couldn’t possibly be that easy? And yet, it apparently was. They sat in silence for a long minute. “That was very…mature of you. Being the bigger person really isn’t that hard, now is it?” the Winchester noted after a moment, lips quirking up just a tad bit into a soft sort of smile. Lucifer had a passing thought that swallowing his pride had never tasted so sweet. His chin ducked in a bit.

“Maybe I just like to own up to my mistakes.” he shot back. Unlike his Father.

“Nobody likes owning up to their mistakes.” Sam quipped back in amusement. Lucifer swallowed thickly. Sam let out a chuckle, this time it was much more pleasant and relaxed. Lucifer rolled his eyes. Right then. “So. I’ll...go tell Chuck you agreed to talk?” he inquired half hesitantly. The archangel nodded, making a sound of affirmation. And then the hunter was shifting, making to get up then. Except then Lucifer was grabbing his wrist and Sam was nearly yanking his arm back in instinct, tensing up. The archangel frowned, dropping his grip as he noted the hunter’s reaction.

“Wait.” he elaborated quickly in explanation of just why he had been grabbing at the other. Sam paused, waiting for further clarification. Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Thanks. For listening I mean.” he stated at last, trying to keep his tone lighter and more sarcastic. But really, he did, well, sincerely appreciate the hunter actually having made an effort. Which was more than what any of the others had done thus far.

“It’s really no problem…” he assured, turning back to head towards the door. He paused, turning back to Lucifer with a half unsure almost puzzled look. “And you know, you’re actually not half bad to talk to when you’re not I don’t know, trying to destroy the world.” he mused. The archangel shifted, the leg he had had crossed finding its way back to the floor. He finally picked up the book he had let fall earlier, sliding it onto the night stand.

“I know.” he quipped back, elbows crooked behind his head as he regarded the other smugly. Sam rolled his eyes and headed out the door.

“By the way, if you’re gonna listen to Robin Trower Shame the Devil is the way to go.” he called over his shoulder, smirk audible in his voice. Because Sam would be damned if he was going to let Lucifer get away with the last and very smug word.

Lucifer just snorted to himself as the other disappeared back into the hallway. He was then huffing out a sigh and standing, stretching in an almost catlike manner as he did so.

The room finally started to dethaw.


End file.
